Away In A Manger
by mabelreid
Summary: Reid returns home to spend Christmas with his mother. A chance encounter in his new neighborhood reminds him that life and love are worth pain of loss and miracles can be found in the humblest of places.
1. Coming Home

**_Disclaimer: See my profile_**

**_Coming Home_**

His eyes opened to the washed out grey's and whites of early morning. He lay on his side that faced the only curtain covered window in the room. He turned over and stretched out his legs to the end of the hotel bed and looked up the ceiling which was shrouded in the last of the night's shadows. He pushed one hand through his hair and yawned. He had to get up because the light meant that it must be close to 8 am and he had an appointment in an hour.

He turned over and reached for his phone. It was 7:52 am. One finger hovered over a familiar speed dial, but he didn't allow the digit to press down on the key. No, he'd get up, shower and get breakfast. Then he'd get in his car and go see his mother, just as he'd promised. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. Why did it still bother him so much to visit here. Nearly fifteen years had passed since he'd had her committed for her own good, but he still felt like that eighteen year old man-child.

He shook his head, yawned again and walked slowly to the bathroom. He was home again, that was the problem. It didn't feel like his home anymore, or not just his only home. Quantico was the place he lived, but Las Vegas was the place he'd come from for better or worse.

At least the water was hot in the shower and he liked the smell of the little bottle of shampoo provided by the hotel. He dressed in his usual cords, dress shirt and sweater vest. He tied the laces to his dirty blue Converse shoes and ran a comb through his hair. He grabbed his messenger bag from the chair near the door. His coat hung over the back of the chair along with his purple scarf. It was 38 degrees outside, but no snow, which was better than Quantico weather. He hurried out the door and down the hall to the elevator. If he really hustled, he could have a nice breakfast before he went to Bennington.

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His hands gripped the steering wheel very tight as he piloted the rental car down The Boulevard as was the nickname given Las Vegas Boulevard by locals. His heart beat a little too fast and all he could think about was his mother and how she'd be that day. Would she be amiable, or would she be depressed and irritable. He almost hoped that she'd think of him as one of her students because she'd always been happiest as a teacher.

A cloud passed over his car fifteen minutes later when he pulled into the parking lot of Bennington. The sky was blue, but the cloud had pewter edges as it temporarily blocked out the sun in the eastern sky. The news hadn't said anything about a storm, but he supposed that anything was possible.

His mother sat in the common room with a book on her lap. She wore a festive red sweater with a black skirt and pink fuzzy slippers. He smiled and when she looked up at him before he even said anything, he knew it was going to be a good day. She smiled back at him and he saw the woman she'd been when he was a small boy.

"Hello," she said enthusiastically. "How are you, baby?"

He sat down across from her and took her hands. "I'm fine, Mom. How are you?"

"I'm so glad you're here. I thought you might have a case."

"We did, but I made it out here last night. The flight was delayed for a couple of hours, so I got in later than I thought."

"Did you get enough sleep? You look so tired."

He thought about the dream of Maeve that had woken him in the middle of the night.

"I slept okay."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He looked around the room instead of in her eyes. Someone had put up a Christmas tree in one corner of the room near a rectangular window. It had a multitude of different ornaments and for a minute he only stared until he remembered that the Administration of Bennington had asked the families of their patients to bring in ornaments or send them. He'd found an ornament at an antique shop in Washington DC that was hand painted. It had come from an estate sale. He'd found two of them and the second was on the tree in his apartment. It was round and featured a scene that reminded him of Thomas Kincaid because if its light and beauty.

"Spencer?"

"Sorry, Mom, I was looking at the tree and the other decorations. It's beautiful this year."

"Yes, it is. I like all the fir boughs and the lights on the tree, especially when the sun goes down, but I wonder why you're distracting me."

"I'm not distracting you."

She reached over and took his hand. He squeezed it tight and bit the inside of his cheek so hard he flinched.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I wish I could be there for you all the time."

"I know that, mom. I'm sorry I upset you. It's Christmas, and I wanted everything to be perfect."

"It is perfect," she held his eyes with her forthright stare. "We're together and nothing can change that."

He held onto her hand for a long time. It was so good to have human contact. He felt tears in his throat, so he cleared and squeaked out. "I killed a man."

She didn't react, in fact, something in her eyes told him that she'd been waiting to hear something like his confession for a weeks. "I knew there was more to the story then what you wrote in your letter, but I didn't want to pry."

"I couldn't let another person I care about be killed."

"Of course not," he mother agreed. "You're a fine man, Spencer, the best I know. If you felt you had to kill to protect, then I'm proud of you."

"How can you be proud of me when I let my emotions cloud my judgment? I didn't call out a warning, I just shot him, in the back. Do you know what that makes me?"

Her hand squeezed his fingers so tightly, he tried to pull away, but she was stronger than she looked. "Don't," she commanded in a tone he knew. "You are not a coward. You knew he was armed and that he'd kill your friend."

"How can you have so much faith in me? I let down the only person I've ever loved after you. I let her die."

He couldn't keep back the tears now. They spilled over his cheeks and he went back to staring at the tree because her eyes were full of pity and sorrow for him and it cut him to the bone.

"Baby," she got up from her chair and sat down right next to him. She pulled him into her arms and held him close as though he were a child again. "You didn't let her down."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know your heart and soul, son. You had enough courage to send me here when you were so young."

"But, mom, I -"

"No, don't say it," she said. "You did the right thing even if I punished for years afterward. You did what you had to do. I'm sorry I made you feel so badly about it."

"Mom, it's okay. I don't feel that way anymore."

He was surprised to see tears in her eyes, but she was very calm. "I'm glad, sweetheart. Now, you have to forgive yourself for what happened to Maeve."

"I don't know if I can."

She grinned at him and he felt his mouth turn up in response. "You can, because you are my son."

He blew out a deep breath. "I'm trying to believe it."

"Why don't we play a game of scrabble? I feel very lucky today."

He laughed and something in his chest broke free. 2013 had been one of the worst years of his life, but everything, whether bad or good eventually ends. He had to think that better things were on the way for the new year.

"Merry Christmas, Spencer."

"Merry Christmas, Mom."

"Now," she said as he rose to get the scrabble game. "You better bring your awesome powers of concentration because I intend to win."

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He pulled his coat around his middle and pushed his gloved hands into his pockets. He'd found that he couldn't concentrate on watching his hotel television or read any of the books he'd picked up at the airport in DC. So, he'd pulled on his warm clothing and headed out for a late night walk.

The sky over head was clear, but he couldn't see the stars. There was too much light pollution, but he hadn't come out to stargaze. Cars passed him on the street as he walked. Their headlights swept over him and the buildings around him as he headed west.

People hurried around him as he walked. They all seemed to have a destination in mind, but he didn't care where he washed up. He just wanted to clear his head. Despite spending the afternoon with his mother and playing three games of scrabble, he knew it wasn't that simple to let go of all the emotions that were twisting up his gut.

Lights from the myriad of casinos made the air glow around him. It was like Christmas lights all year when night came to Las Vegas. There were a few Santa's ringing their bells for the Salvation Army in front of a couple of small markets and two casinos. He dropped a few dollars into one red kettle and crossed the street with the Santa's "Ho, Ho, Ho, young man. Merry Christmas."

He walked another block and turned another corner and hailed a cab. He gave a familiar address to the driver and sat back to watch more of the Las Vegas lights fly by.

"You from around here," the cabby asked.

"Yeah…"

Reid dismissive tone didn't deter the man from talking. "I just mean that most tourists are goin to the shows or to drop their hard earned cash into our economy. There ain't many people that ask for this part of town."

Reid looked at the driver who was white, portly, and dark haired with a full beard and a cap on his head. He smiled like a small child, but his eyes were cold.

"I grew up here," Reid said and turned his attention back to the windows.

He ignored the cabby's attempts to talk to him. When he got to his destination, he gave the guy a decent tip, but the guy didn't so much as thank him. Reid shrugged his shoulders and turned to the house. He stared up at it even though it was completely dark. He didn't know who lived there, but he didn't care. The familiar lines of the roof, the shape of the windows and the length of the porch were all such a part of his life, that it made the tension in his neck go away. He wished he could go up and open the door and go up to his room. He wished he could sleep in his bed after his mother read a story to him. He wished he could show Maeve the tree in the back yard he'd read under during the summer.

He blinked against the tears that still came too easily these days. He turned away from his old home. He didn't belong there anymore. He walked to the curb, crossed the street and walked five blocks until he found an old Catholic Church, Our Lady of the West.

When he was a boy, he'd walked to this place to look at the light and the life-sized Nativity Scene in the front and to the right of the grey stone steps. The spires of the church reached into the sky as though they were trying to find the hand of God. He looked at the arch shaped windows outlined in more grey stone. Finally, he turned his eyes back to the Nativity Scene.

There were shepherds, and wise men in their robes and turbans. The animals were arranged around bales of haw strewn over the yellowed grass. There were camels, donkeys and sheep, but the figure that always drew his attention was the Mother of God, Mary. She wore blue robes and the one that had sculpted her face, had given her an angelic aspect. Someone had placed a light so that her face seemed to be lit from within. She smiled and looked down at the manger that stood in front of her and Joseph. He looked over at the carpenter and tears crept into his eyes because he recognized the adoring look the artist had given Joseph.

He was about to turn away when, suddenly the wind died down from ruffling his hair and teasing chills from his bones. He heard something that made his heart jump into his throat. It simply couldn't be. He automatically took a couple of steps toward the manger. He stopped, looked around and saw that there was no one on the street. He could hear traffic on the street, but there was no one of foot near him.

He heard the sound again. It was so soft and plaintive, he thought it must be his imagination, but he took another three steps up the lawn to the Nativity Scene.

He looked back again, but no one walked the streets. How could that be on Christmas Eve? The sound came again, and it was louder this time. It was real, but he didn't know how that could be. He hurried to the manger and looked down into the straw. For the first time since Maeve died her face wasn't stuck behind his eyes. In fact, he couldn't think of anything but what lay on the straw.

"Where did you come from?" He squeaked.


	2. Sanctuary

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**_Sanctuary_**

The newborn baby in the manger answered him with more heartbreaking wails. After standing there and staring in stunned disbelief for half a minute, he reached in and picked up the baby. The thin blanket wrapped around the child, fluttered in the wind, which had picked back up again.

"Hey, don't cry," he said and rocked the infant as he'd learned from babysitting Henry.

The baby stopped crying and turned into Reid's chest. "That's the way. Everything is going be okay."

He shivered as the wind buffered them. _Don't just stand there. It's freezing out here._

Yes, it was freezing out here. He reached up with one hand and awkwardly pulled his scarf from around his shoulders. "I have something that'll keep you warm. He wrapped the scarf around the baby as best he could with one hand. It wasn't perfect but it'd keep the baby warmer than the thin blanket someone had used before leaving this poor little thing in the cold.

He noticed that the infant lacked the bright red skin that accompanied hypothermia and the baby certainly had a lot of energy they way it wriggled in his arms, so apparently it hadn't been there long. He looked around again to see if he could see anyone that might be responsible for the baby, but like before, no one was there.

"I gotta put you down for a minute." The baby began to wail again when left in the manger. "It's okay, I promise. I have to call the cops, so someone can come take you somewhere warm and safe. "

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and pushed the buttons for 911.

"_What is your emergency?"_

"_This is SSA Reid of the FBI. I found an abandoned baby in the Nativity Scene in front of Our Lady of the West." _

"_Did you say an abandoned baby?"_

'_Yes, ma'am." _

"_I'll send the police and an ambulance. Can you go inside where it's warm?"_

"_I don't know." _

"_See if the doors are unlocked. There's a midnight Mass in about an hour."_

"_How do you know?"_

"_I go to Mass there every Christmas." _

"_Oh, well, I'll see." _

"_Don't worry, sir. It's Christmas Eve. Everything is going to be alright." _

Reid shut his phone and looked down at the baby, who was crying so loudly he was amazed the stone walls of the church didn't crack. He looked around again, but no one hurried toward him demanding to know what the fuss was about.

"I guess it's just you and me."

He reached down, lifted the baby from the straw lining the simple wooden box, and cradled the child to his breast. The baby immediately stopped crying.

"Hi, my name is Spencer. Why don't we see if we can get in out of the cold?"

He walked as fast as he could to the stairs. Climbing them with a baby in his arms didn't seem like the smart thing to do, but at least they were free of ice and snow. The baby shifted a bit and Reid stopped on the third stair. If the baby started crying again… No, the child didn't begin to scream again, so he hurried up the rest of the steps to the door and reached for the brass handle.

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Father Crane liked to take one last look around the altar and the pews before Christmas Mass. The church was in pristine order as usual, but he liked to look around anyway. One didn't think of a priest, that was also former military, serving in a church in downtown Las Vegas, but Father Crane loved it.

Even though he'd left Corporal Alan Crane behind and become Father Crane, he still wore his hair like a soldier. His blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. He liked the black of the priests garb because it went with his black hair that was in contrast with his eyes, in fact most people commented on his eyes because of his hair. He found it to be a great way to break the ice especially with kids. He maintained his military bearing and worked out every day to keep his body fit. His father always said that a fit mind needed a fit body.

He passed the altar and stopped to make the sign of the cross. He gazed up at the crucifix and wondered again at the miracle of Christ's birth. It was his favorite time of year even though most people only thought of Christmas as days off from work or spending money they didn't have on gifts that didn't mean much in comparison to the Gift of the Son of God to the world.

He walked down the center island and let his fingers dip delicately into the font of Holy Water. He stopped, turned and genuflected again. He'd check to make sure the door to the narthex was open and then he'd go see about the final changes on his address for Mass.

He took a moment to look at the decorations added to the chapel. There were fir boughs with red bows and little white and gold lights that twinkled like the stars in the heavens. One of the children in his congregation had the idea of putting up a Christmas tree, but all the gifts were for the Christ-Child. He'd challenged them, beginning the Sunday after Thanksgiving to think of something they could include or give up in their lives to bring them closer to God. They were to write it down, but not leave it under the tree. Instead, if they wished, they could wrap an empty box and put it under the tree. There were so many boxes under the tree, he'd didn't think another one would fit for love or money.

"Thank you, God, for leading me to these good people," he said softly to the chapel.

Father Crane reached for the door when it pulled back and admitted a tall, thin man with a bundle in his arms. He didn't flinch because no surprise could compare with a young woman walking out of the ruins of a village with an arm blown off, or a young man with a bomb strapped to his chest, ready to commit suicide for his brand of God, or one of a thousand other atrocities he'd seen in Iraq.

"Hello," he said and stepped back. "Welcome, my son."

"Hello, Father," said the young man. "I'm sorry to intrude, but I have a bit of a problem.

The young man held up the bundle and Father Crane, veteran of bloody battle and the daily battle for souls, was speechless.

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Reid stared around the decorations of the church as he followed Father Crane to the very front of the chapel. "Please have a seat."

"Thank you."

He sat and looked down at the baby. For the first time he'd gotten a good look at the little guy or girl. The baby had very dark hair that lay in little ringlets around its head. He thought that the baby was a newborn because it still had the wizened old man look of a newly born baby. He couldn't see the child's eyes, but the baby seemed to be full term, it wasn't small or large, but average.

_How would you know?!_

"I'm sorry," said Father Crane. "You threw me for a bit of a loop. How could anyone leave a child outside in this cold? They could have left it inside and I would have seen that it was protected."

"I don't know, Father."

"Tell me, my son, what is your name?"

"Oh right, well," he gingerly reached for his badge from his right hand pocket while clutching the baby tightly in his left. "My name is Spencer, Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"A profiler?"

"Yes sir. I'm here for the holidays visiting my mother. I took a walk and found myself here. I always loved the Nativity Scene during the holidays and then I heard the baby cry. I couldn't believe it."

"I can imagine. May I hold him or is it her?"

"That I don't know."

Strangely, he was reluctant to hand over the baby, but this was a man of the cloth, after all. He gave the baby to the priest, and as though a switch was turned on the baby began to cry as though it still felt the sting of birth.

"Okay, why don't you take him?"

Reid found the baby back in his arms before he could protest and the baby promptly stopped crying. "It would seem you have a way with babies."

"Actually, no, " Reid protested. "Usually, children cry around me."

"I don't believe that. I think you are great with kids. I can tell there is at least one child in your life that doesn't cry when you are there."

"How did you know?"

The priest smiled and it lit up his whole face, "Because you hold this child with such tenderness. There is something about this baby that reminds you of someone."

"My Godson," Reid blurted out. "His name is Henry. He's five now, but he was the first baby I ever held that didn't cry. Also, I had to deliver a baby on the job not too long ago. The mother named him after me," he babbled.

"Well, there you go. I think God chose you to help this child. I wouldn't have heard its cries and who knows if it would have lived in this cold another hour."

"I've seen the worst in humanity," Reid said, "but I don't understand how a mother can abandon her child."

"Someone who is desperate, or who doesn't care at all," said the priest. "I wish there were a way to reach all such and remind them that they are Children of a God who loves them."

In the distance, the wail of sirens hurried closer to the church. Reid turned to look at the doors to the narthex. "I guess that means the police and ambulance are here. Thank you for letting us in out of the cold."

"There's always refuge from the storm if you know where to find it."

Reid glanced back at the priest because there was something in the man's tone that didn't have anything to do with a baby in the Nativity Scene manger, but he didn't get a chance to push his inquiry because Father Crane said. "I'll go greet the police. Just stay here where it's warm, Spencer Reid."

Reid looked down at the little person in his arms and realized that somewhere in the few minutes that had passed since he'd found a baby in a manger, he'd forgotten some of his pain.


	3. No Room At The Inn

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**_No Room At The Inn_**

The last thing Detective Rosario Castillo expected on Christmas Eve duty was an abandoned baby. The second last thing she expected was SSA Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI at her crime scene. He looked like something a strong wind could blow away. He dressed like a college student, but there was something in his eyes that drew her in like a lost puppy. He was most certainly not your average fed.

"Dr. Reid, I'm Detective Castillo. I've been assigned to work this case. I've called CPS and they're sending over a social worker to take the baby to a foster home." She held out a hand, which he responded to with a wave.

"Hi," he said.

"Did you see anyone hanging around the church?" She asked bluntly.

"No… I've already answered this question once, along with several others from the first on scene."

"I realize that, Dr. Reid, but its Christmas Eve and there is a hospital a few miles from here. Why leave the baby here, instead of the hospital where you can leave it with no questions asked?"

Reid stroked the top of the baby's head and Detective Castillo thought of her six-month-old niece. How could anyone leave a child to die in the cold?

"Perhaps the mother thought the child should go back to God."

"How can you say that?"

"Detective," he lowered his voice a little when the baby began to wake. "I'm trained to observe behavior. Look at the facts. The paramedics said this little girl is less than a day old. The woman that left her here is familiar with the neighborhood. The baby was left in the manger that's part of a Nativity Scene that's been here for years. It all speaks to remorse. I believe she lives in the neighborhood."

"Very good," Detective Castillo said. "Can you give me the mother's address?"

Reid smiled down at the little girl one of the paramedics had dubbed, Mary.

"No, I'm afraid that's up to you."

"Now for the questions I have to ask to cover all my bases. What brings you to this neighborhood?"

He didn't look at her because he was too busy staring down at the beautiful little girl in his arms.

"Dr Reid," she prompted when he didn't answer.

"What?"

"I asked you why you're in this neighborhood."

He finally looked up at her and there was calculation in his eyes. "I grew up in Las Vegas. I'm here to visit my mother. I was restless tonight. I decided to go for a walk and when I was out on The Strip, I decided to hail a cab and see the house where I used to live. I walked down here because I always loved the Nativity Scene. When I was a kid, I'd sneak out after dark and come down here to look it. It soothed my soul in a way I can't explain.

"So it was just a coincidence?"

"Detective, I'm a profiler so I know what you're trying to say."

She lifted her shoulders. "What am I trying to say?"

"You're trying to determine if I'm involved with abandoning this baby, or worse, you think I might be some kind of child predator."

"If you were involved with the abandonment of this child, you'd hardly stay in the area or call the police, unless you're feeling guilty. As for a predator…" She lifted her shoulders again. "The girl is a newborn and it'd be unusual."

"I've never seen this baby before," he stated firmly. "It's purely coincidental that I'm here and it's a good thing, too. The weather would have killed her if I hadn't come along. "

"Someone else would have come along when people began arriving for Mass."

"Excuse me," said a woman approaching from the back of the chapel. "Sheila Carson from CPS," she announced.

Detective Castillo nearly smiled at the suspicion in Dr. Reid's eyes as he surveyed the woman in front of them. She was tall, with a festive red wool coat and black hair that was pulled up on top of her head. She had eyes as dark as Detective Castillo, but he thought they looked like she was jaded. He could understand that very well. She wore black heels under her dress and carried a file in her hands.

"The paramedics said the child is female," she said as she took Mary from Reid.

Detective Castillo nearly laughed at the reluctance with which Reid surrendered the baby to the social worker.

"Yes, she's less than a day old. The medic said she checked out fine, just a little cold."

Mary began to cry the way she had when Reid found her in the manger. He reached up for her, but Mrs. Carson just smiled at him. "I can handle her. I'm used to children, especially traumatized children. I think she's probably hungry."

She moved off with the baby and Detective Castillo nearly laughed again when Dr. Reid popped up out of his seat. "Are you sure you can handle her? I think I should -"

"Don't worry, Dr. Reid. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Dr. Reid," Detective Castillo called back his attention. "As you're a profiler, I could really use your help. I want to find the person that did this."

"Did you know that in the state of Nevada alone in 2003, 13,325 babies were abandoned and that number has increased dramatically in the last ten years? It happens in all communities, and at all social levels, once males and females become sexually active. Many of the mothers that abandon their babies are very young and want to hide their pregnancies.

"You'd think I'd get used to it. In my time as a cop, I've dealt with my share of abandoned babies, but nothing like this on Christmas Eve."

"I used to think that one day I'd get used to all the terrible things I see in my job, but I've come to the conclusion I never will."

"Yet, you still come to work every day," she pointed out.

"So do you," he retorted.

She smirked at him because even though she hardly knew him, she could see the distraction in his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder again because Mary still cried. The social worker was bouncing her and talking to her, but Detective Castillo couldn't hear what she was saying to the little girl.

"Excuse me," Reid said distractedly to her.

Mrs. Carson frowned at him when he approached. "I don't know what's wrong. Father Crane managed to find a bottle and formula somewhere. I guess the word is out to his flock. He's a miracle worker. She won't eat, though."

"Let me try."

Mrs. Carson looked him up and down and then handed over Mary. The baby stopped crying when he took her and she sucked hungrily at the bottle when he touched the nipple to her lips."

"It would appear that you have a way with her," said Mrs. Carson. "I'm glad because I can't find a family to take the baby until a more permanent arrangement can be made."

"I should call my friend at the FBI. She's great with computers and maybe she can -"

"I told you, we don't have anyone available. The baby seems to be very comfortable with you."

"No," he said firmly, "Absolutely not."

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Reid found out that saying no to the CPS was as ineffectual as trying to argue with the sun. Mrs. Carson deflected every objection he tried to make until Detective Castillo ganged up with her and he reluctantly decided to take the child. "I can only take care of her tonight," he insisted.

"I promise I'll find someone by the morning. We have a facility, but she'd have to double up with another baby. We just don't have enough beds."

"I understand," he said wearily.

"Don't worry so much, Dr. Reid. As I said, you seem to have a way with her."

He looked down at the infant. She wasn't sleeping, but she was looking up at him. She held his gaze for much longer than was normal for a newborn. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

"There is a family that's willing to take the baby tomorrow," said Mrs. Carson," they're on their way back from Palm Springs early. They're a nice Jewish couple that I've worked with on several cases"

She hurried away and left Reid staring after her. "Why is she fine just leaving the baby with me?"

"There's something about your eyes," Detective Castillo deadpanned.

He gave her a withering stare. "That's ridiculous. You can't tell someone's trustworthiness by their eyes."

"Anyway," she said. "I think she made a great choice."

"You were practically accusing me of pedophilia and now its okay for me to just take Mary with me."

She grinned at him. "Come on, my partner can finish up here. Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"If you're taking charge of that little one, then you'll need a couple of things."


	4. The Crying Game

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**The Crying Game**

"Do we need all of this for one night?" Detective Castillo asked. "If I were any shorter, I'd need a stepping stool to see over this cart."

Reid perused the shelves of disposable diapers. In fact, he'd spent the last ten minutes trying to decide what kind of diapers to buy for Mary. Babies Inc resembled one of those over done warehouse stores with aisles and aisles of every item one could possibly need for every conceivable baby need from colic to diaper rash and everything in between.

"You're not that short," he said. "And this stack, as you call it, isn't that high. Everything that's in the basket is necessary."

"Yeah, if you're planning on waiting out a siege on the level with Armageddon."

"Ha, Ha," he said derisively. "You're the one that insisted we 'pick up,' a few things."

She drew her hand through her long black hair and bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing.

"I said a few things. You have wipes, four new outfits - admittedly very cute - lotion, baby shampoo, a bath tub, tiny little socks, a coat, a case of formula, etc, etc, etc."

"They're all necessities. We also need diapers, a Moses basket, and -"

"Slow down, Dr. Reid, you're only in charge for one night."

He reached out for a 48 pack of diapers that were guaranteed to keep baby's little tushie warm and dry overnight.

"This will do," Detective Castillo took the diapers from him and substituted the same brand in a twelve-pack size.

"I'm the one that has to take care of her."

She grabbed his hand as he was about to push the cart into the next aisle. "Come on, Dr. Reid. Mary is probably screaming her head off for you by now."

"That's not funny."

She pulled on his arm again. "Don't get nervous. I care about her too. She reminds me of my little niece. I want Mary to be safe and happy, but you're over doing it."

His shoulders slumped. "You're right. I am going overboard. Thanks for stopping the madness."

She grinned at him and her dark eyes sparkled. "Someone had to; you were getting a little out of control."

He finally smiled and some of the sadness in his face retreated. "I guess I was. Come on, help me sort through this. You're probably right about Mary."

"You gotta admit that the look on Mrs. Carson's face, when you left her in your hotel room with Mary so we could do this, was priceless. I'm just glad this place is open late."

"Me too. I'm also glad that the last minute shoppers have thinned out. I hate shopping on Christmas Eve."

"Well, then lets get cracking."

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Reid almost laughed when they returned to his hotel room. Mary was crying and Mrs. Carson looked about ten years older. "I don't understand. Children usually love me."

He decided not to comment after Detective Castillo shot him a warning look. He took the baby and as before, she quieted down and went to sleep. "I don't know what we're going to do when her foster family arrives," said Ms. Carson.

"Oh don't worry about it. I'm sure that she'll love her new family," Detective Castillo quipped.

"Well, I see you have plenty of supplies," the social worker observed. "I think you have everything you need. Thank you, Dr. Reid, for taking care of this poor child. You saved her life."

She picked up her purse and gave him a tired, grateful grin. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What time?"

"I spoke to Doris just before you returned from shopping. She and Jamie will be back in town by noon. I'll call you if there's any problems."

"I did have plans to see my mother tomorrow afternoon. I can't take a baby there."

"I'm sure you're mother won't mind."

"You don't understand, she -"

He broke off and looked down at Mary so he didn't have to look Mrs. Carson in the eye.

"What is it, Dr. Reid?"

"Um, it's fine. I'll work it out."

"Why don't you give me your mother's number?"

He flinched and began fidgeting with his scarf, which was still wrapped around the little girl.

"No," he said shortly. "Just call my cell phone."

"Is there something wrong?"

He finally made his eyes meet Mrs. Carson's inquiring gaze. He smiled for her. "Our phone is usually busy with calls from family."

"Oh, well, I'll call your phone then. Good luck and Merry Christmas."

He walked with her to the door. Detective Castillo didn't leave with the social worker. She just stood there staring at him.

"Why are you staring at me?"

She went to the chair near the only window in the room. "You might have fooled, Mrs. Carson, but you didn't fool me."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

He went to one of the two double beds in the room and sat down with his face to the mirror over the sideboard against the wall. He put Mary down on the bed, but she didn't wake up. He unwrapped his scarf and reached for one of the bags of items from Babies Inc.

"Stop playing with that stuff and tell me what's bothering you.'

"We hardly know each other, Detective. My life isn't an open book."

She tensed up, and then relaxed. "You're right. I'm sorry if I overstepped. Sometimes I have a very difficult time turning off the detective in me."

"It's alright. Did you know that roughly 80 percent of all police officers and federal law enforcement personnel have trouble leaving their work lives at home? The incidents of alcoholism, drug abuse and -"

"Do you always talk like that?"

He looked up from wrapping Mary in a pink blanket with Strawberry Shortcake. "Yeah, it's kind of an occupational hazard for those around me."

She stood up and came over to the bed. She leaned down and kissed Mary on the forehead. "Duermete bein, nina preciosa."

"She is precious," he found himself agreeing without thought."

"Te hablas Espanol?"

"Very little and with a horrible accent, but I understand several words and phrases."

She grinned at him. "Well, I better get going. Good luck."

"We'll be fine. I have lots of experience with my Godson. I can handle it."

"Do you know what?"

He shook his head and stood up to hang up his coat and get the new Moses basket he'd bought for the baby.

"I think you will. See you later."

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It was a little after one am when he finally finished organizing everything he'd bought for Mary to his satisfaction in his hotel room. He had everything she needed for diapers on the sideboard. He put her Moses basket right in the middle of the bed he wasn't using for sleep, and the new clothes he'd insisted on buying for her in one of the drawers in the nightstand between the beds. The formula and the six-pack of new bottles he'd rinsed out with a little dish soap he'd picked up at a convenience store, were lined up like soldiers on parade.

"There," he said. "We are ready for anything."

She slept as if a bomb could go off next to her and she wouldn't wake, but he knew she'd wake up eventually and he had to be prepared.

"I wish, I could take you to see my mother, but she wouldn't understand. You see, she's sick and it's difficult for her adapt to change. Anyway, it's not a good place for a little girl like you, so we'll just stay here and wait for your new mommy and daddy."

He pulled his notebook out of his pocket and looked at the information that Mrs. Carson had given him about the family that would take Mary. Their names were Jamie and Doris Goldstein. They were unable to have children of their own, so the regularly took on foster children. Now they had two little boys in their care.

"Mrs. Caron said they are her best family, but I think I need a second opinion on that."

He reached for his phone, and then realized it was closing in on 4:30 in the morning on the East Coast. Garcia would kill him, and then resurrect him for Morgan to have a go. If he had an online presence, she would destroy that too.

"No, we better not take the chance," he said to the baby.

He hurried through his usual getting ready for bed rituals and was just pulling on his sleep pants when Mary began to cry as if someone was pinching her black and blue.

He hurried to the basket and picked her up. "Are you hungry?"

She didn't answer him so he put her back in her basket and got busy making up a bottle of formula for her. Since he didn't have a microwave, he added water to the bottle from the coffee carafe he'd set aside after heating it up without any coffee grounds. It was just the right temperature so not to burn her. She dispatched with the bottle so fast, he wondered if it was good for her. He hoped she wouldn't spit up on him when he burped her. Fortunately, she was in the mood to cooperate. He changed her diaper and put her back in her basket.

"Now, why don't we get some sleep?"

She opened her eyes, then closed them again and began to cry so loudly, he was afraid someone would call the cops. He picked her up and began to pace the floor, but she didn't stop and it suddenly hit him that he might be in trouble.


	5. Coffee and Background Checks

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Coffee and Background Checks_**

When Reid opened his hotel room door at 8 am the next morning, Detective Castillo almost laughed. He had a red spot and a crease in his right cheek. His hair stood up on end, also on the right side, and the white tee shirt he wore bore distinct baby vomit stains. His eyes were at half-mast and bloodshot. "What?"

"Merry Christmas," she greeted. "I thought you might need this, and I see I was right."

His eyes finally latched onto the cups of lovely, steaming coffee in her hands. His nose wrinkled like a bunny rabbit and his eyes opened wide. He was nearly drooling, she could see.

"Give me that," he grabbed one of the cups and began to drink it as if it were going out of style.

"You're welcome," she said cheerfully.

The room was a mess. Two of the outfits they'd bought for the baby were strewn on the carpet. Several wadded up wipes and a sprinkling of baby powder decorated the sideboard. The bed closest to the door was rumpled but not fully wrecked. The only part of the room that seemed serene in the middle of all the chaos was the other bed with the Moses basket in the middle.

"Wow, I thought you had experience with babies."

"One baby," he held up the first finger of his right hand. "I delivered the second baby and gave him to the paramedics. My time spent with him was less than ten minutes."

"Okay, Okay, I was just teasing you."

He sat on the edge of the rumpled bed and began to toy with the now half-full cup of coffee. "She finally fell asleep a couple of hours ago. I was so sure I could take care of her with no problem, but an hour after you left, she started to cry. I couldn't stop it, no matter what I tried."

"Will you be mad if I say I'm glad it was you and not me?"

He looked up at her and there was a little smile on his lips. "I wouldn't wish last night on my worst enemy. Why did she like me and then hate me?"

"She doesn't hate you. Mi hermana said that sometimes babies need to cry."

"JJ said that about Henry. You know," he shifted on the bed so he eyes were on the basket that held the sleeping Mary. "I always had a safety net with JJ. It didn't matter what happened with Henry because JJ was always there. I knew she'd always come back."

Detective Castillo sat next to him on the bed. "You're going to be a great dad some day."

He got up from his seat and went to the sideboard. He began to pick up discarded wipes.

"Dr. Reid, what did I say?"

"Nothing," he said shortly.

"I am sorry if I said something to upset you."

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing. Tell me, Detective Castillo, what are you doing here?"

She stared at him for a few seconds. "My sister and her family get up early for their Christmas and then they have a huge breakfast. I go see them in the afternoon so they can have family time. We have a big supper later and then we tell stories and play games. I don't have to work tomorrow so Maria and I are hitting the sales."

"I never understood why people find it necessary to go spend money, the day after Christmas."

"Because you can find some great deals; don't you want to go out and spend the gift cards you get?"

He was saved from answering when Mary began to cry again. Luckily, it was easy to calm her, as she was hungry.

"May I feed her?"

He gave her a fresh new bottle and Mary. The baby ate with enthusiasm. "You're so hermosa, preciosa. You like your breakfast, don't you? You should be nicer to Dr. Reid. He just wants to take care of you and make sure you're safe and happy."

"You're really great with her."

"I'm not as good with kids as my sister. Still, I hope that one day I'll have some children. I think that would be wonderful."

"What about all the unrest and terrible things in the world. Don't you think that it's better not to bring a child into it?"

"You don't believe that," she said as she rocked the baby.

"You hardly know me. How can you say that?"

"Because of the way you are with this little one and everything you've said about Henry. Anyway, I think children are the hope of the future."

"I hope you're right. Listen, I need to get this place cleaned up. I don't want Mrs. Carson to see it."

Detective Castillo laughed. "I don't blame you. She doesn't bring to mind the kind of woman I think of as working with children."

"Social workers have a very high burn out rate."

"Yes, I know. It makes everyone's job more difficult."

They were silent now that Mary had finished her bottle and was sleeping again. Detective Castillo found that for the first time in her life she didn't have anything to say.

"Um, Detective Castillo-"

"Please call me Rosa. Neither of us is working and it seems strange to use our titles," she pointed out.

"Then you should call me Spencer."

"Alright, Spencer, what were you going to say?"

"Would you stay here and watch Mary for a minute. I need to make a phone call and I don't want to be interrupted."

She nodded solemnly. "Of course, we'll have lots of fun together, won't we, Mary?"

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Reid hurried through a shower and getting into a fresh set of clothes. He left Rosa with Mary and went down to the coffee shop. It was nearly empty, which surprised him. He took a table and the offered coffee. He refused the offered breakfast and pulled out his phone.

"Merry Christmas, sweet cheeks, why are you calling me instead of spending time with your mom?"

"Why are you answering the phone instead of celebrating?"

"I'm working this year. I traded with Deborah for Thanksgiving."

"But it's work," he squeaked.

"It's okay, I don't have family anyway."

"Garcia."

"Why did you call me?"

He pushed a breath through his teeth. "I called because I want you to run a background check."

"On Christmas Day?"

"I didn't think you were actually going to be in the office. I thought you could do if from your lap top at home."

"Right, what kind of trouble did you find in Sin City?"

"A baby," he said as his voice climbed another octave.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I did, but I think we must have a bad connection because I think you said a baby."

"I did say a baby. Look, to make a very long story short, I was in my old neighborhood last night and I found an abandoned baby in a church Nativity Scene."

"No way?"

"Way," he said and nearly laughed at the absurdity of the last fourteen hours.

"Oddly," she began, "I don't find it a bit surprising."

"Thanks."

"Don't get petulant. You're the one that finds trouble at the drop of a hat."

"Are you going to tease me, or do the background checks?"

"Alright, I'll do the checks."

He explained about the foster parents and gave her their names. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You're welcome, Reid. I'll get back to you as soon as I'm done. You'll know everything there is to know about the Goldsteins when I'm done with them."

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By the time, Garcia called him back, it was three hours later and Rosa was gone. Mary was behaving beautifully again and suddenly he couldn't think what he'd do when she was gone.

"I never thought I'd find a real baby in that manger when I went out for that walk," he said to her as he perched near her basket. "You made the holiday a little brighter for me. I just wish I could tell my mom about you. She'd probably never believe it. Maybe I'll tell her anyway.

He reached in the basket and stroked his hand over her soft head of hair. He'd never seen so much hair on a newborn before and she was so cute.

"I hope this new family cares enough about you to make sure you have everything in the world you need, especially love."

She snuffled in her sleep and it made him smile. Soon, he would dress her in one of the little outfits he bought for her that were still clean. "You're going to make a great first impression on your new family.

Again, as it had every time he looked at Mary, he wondered if there was any way he'd have children of his own. He shook his head. Maeve was the love of his life and he couldn't imagine loving anyone enough to marry them and have kids. No, that part of his life was over. There was no way to get it back even if JJ kept telling him that one day he'd be a dad and have a wonderful life.

"I told her life isn't like some movie. You don't find your soul mate twice."

His phone rang just in time to save him from tears.

"I have your background checks," Garcia informed him. "You're not going to believe what I found."


	6. Coincidence Or A Sign

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_Coincidence Or A Sign _**

"What did you find?"

"Jamie Goldstein is a man after my own heart, he's a freelance computer analyst with a squeaky clean past, no police record and he's a graduate of Harvard. He has four brothers and one sister. He and Doris have been married for fifteen years.

His wife, Doris, formally Cohen, is a housewife. She spends most of her time looking after their foster children, taking care of the house, and she does charity work, mostly for children's charities. No criminal record, not so much of parking ticket," she said sounding very disappointed.

"There's nothing earth shattering about that, except that they sound a little too good to be true."

"Hey, you're the one that asked me to vet them. I thought you'd be happy with what I found."

"I am happy. I was commenting. I thought you had something to tell me that I wouldn't believe. "

"Just remember not to shoot the messenger."

"Did you know that the saying, 'Shoot the messenger,' comes from 'No one loves the messenger who brings bad news?' The quote is from -"

"Shakespeare, from Henry IV part 2. I know, Reid. I am an actress in my spare time."

"I know, I know," he placated her.

"You're not the only one that can know things."

"I'm sorry," he said. "What do you want to tell that you think I'll hate? You're scaring me."

"Sorry, sweet cheeks. The big news is that The Goldsteins live at your old address."

"What?"

"Your old address, where you grew up."

Reid couldn't speak for a very long time. "You okay, Spencer. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Are you sure?"

She rattled off the address and his heart began race because it was true and how did that fit into this little mystery of the abandoned baby.

"Reid?"

"I'm fine. I just don't know what to say about everything that's happened in the last twelve hours."

"If it were anyone else, I'd say it was very weird, but you have a knack for getting into odd situations."

He laughed because there was nothing else to do. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"Good, I'll pretend that's how I meant it," she quipped.

"Goodbye, Garcia," he hung up on her.

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Reid stayed next to Mary's basket. Watching her sleep soothed his soul after Garcia's startling revelation. He didn't want to think about the implications so he kept his eyes and mind on the baby.

He couldn't believe that watching a baby sleep could so entrance him. He'd never felt this way about Henry, but he supposed that it was different this time. When Henry was a newborn, he'd been terrified after the first time he'd held him in the hospital. This time, he didn't feel that kind of fear. This time it was as if she was his little girl. He sighed. Mary wasn't his little girl and getting too attached was going to hurt like hell when Mrs. Carson called.

"You don't have to anything. Some nice people are going to take great care of you. You're going to have a wonderful life full of all the things your heart desires and everything you deserve."

He had a sudden epiphany. There was a way to prove the last hours to his mother and it was something he could have as a way to remember Mary. He picked up the baby and put her on a blanket next to her basket. She opened her eyes for a few seconds and then she slept again. He hurried through changing her outfit for one that he'd bought that Detective Castillo had picked out for her. It was a one-piece dress with a red skirt and a black velvet top. The skirt had little black flowers and stems. He added little white stockings, and a headband with black lace and a red rose. He took a few pictures of her with his phone.

"Now I'll always have something to remember you. I'm gonna send these to Garcia so she can see how pretty you are in your dress. My mother will like these too."

His phone rang five minutes later. It was Mrs. Carson telling him that she and the Goldsteins were on their way and would be there in fifteen minutes. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. In a few minutes, Mary would be gone and he'd go back to his life, and back to thinking about Maeve all day long every day and how much it hurt that she was never coming back.

"I guess it is better for you to have a mommy and a daddy. You can't stay with a guy that has to go all over the country and stay away for days at a time."

She opened her eyes again as he picked her up. She looked at him for a long time. "Be good for your new family, okay."

She began to cry and he jumped. "I guess that means you're hungry."

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Reid parked his car in front of Bennington a little after 1 pm. The parking lot was nearly full so he had to walk a little but it allowed him time to think and to compose his emotions for the afternoon with his mother. The wind ruffled his hair and he shivered. It was cold that day, much colder then he remembered for December.

His mother was at her usual table in the common room. There were several other people visiting. He was greeted by several family members of other patients as he walked by them to the common room.

"Hi mom," he greeted.

"Oh, hello, Spencer."

She put down the book she'd been reading. He recognized it as one of his birthday gifts to her.

"You look tired," she said.

"I am tired, but there's story behind why."

She listened to him without interruption and she exclaimed over the photos of little Mary on his phone. "She's so beautiful."

"Yeah…"

She put a hand over his and squeezed it. "Baby, one day you're going to be a great father."

Tears sprang up into his eyes. "I don't think so, mom."

"You lost someone you loved, but it isn't the end. I know one day you'll find the one for you."

"I thought I did."

She smiled at him. "Sometimes the path to love has twists and turns we don't see coming."

"I don't know if I can believe in that," he said hoarsely.

"Just think about the last twenty-four hours. You found something that for a few hours, took your mind off your troubles. You were happy again."

"I was, and I admit that I'm looking at life a bit differently, but it's not like the end to "It's A Wonderful Life."

"I'm just glad that this little girl found her own miracle."

"I'm not a miracle. Someone would have come along and found her. It was at a church."

"Maybe you're right, but it might have been too late."

"Mom, I have something else I need to tell you."

He explained that the foster family lived in their old family home on Aspen Lane. "I was floored. What do you think it means, mom?"

"I think you have to figure it out for yourself."

"I'm not sure I like that answer," he said bluntly.

"I know, but it's all I have."

He sat watching her watch him for a few minutes, then he smiled and ducked his head. "Alright, mom, I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

"That I think too much and try too hard to answer every question."

"Sometimes the answer is something you have to wait for," she said.

"I'm never going to win with you, am I?"

"No," she said and they bother chuckled.

"Why don't we have another game of Scrabble? I need to raise my average with you."

His mother smirked. "I think you're dreaming, but far be it from me to wake you from that dream."

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"So, all that ends well…"

"Garcia, since when do you resort to clichés," Reid wondered as he picked at his room service dinner.

"I'm just saying you sound better than tonight."

"I am, but -"

"You miss that beautiful little darling. BTW, thanks for the pictures. She's gorgeous."

"You're welcome."

"Reid."

"Alright, I miss her, which is ridiculous because I only knew her for less than a day. It's not as if I'm her father."

"But you were, for a few hours," Garcia argued.

"That's ridiculous, I -"

"You saved her from hypothermia, Reid. You took care of her, and made sure she got everything she needed, including a great new family. You're more a father than her biological father and mother."

"Listen, I -"

"You gave her love, something she was sorely lacking until you found her in that manger. You could have taken care of her without giving of your heart. You could have pushed her off on the CPS despite their overcrowding problem, but you didn't, Reid. You gave of yourself and I have to believe that somewhere, Maeve is smiling on you."

"I don't know if I can believe that, what if she's mad at me."

"Is that what you've believed all this time?"

"I didn't take care of her."

"Yes, you did in the way you thought best."

"I should have -"

"You can wallow in coulda, woulda, shoulda, all you want, but it's never going to make you feel any better."

"I don't wanna feel better."

"You can't punish yourself forever, Reid."

"Do you really think she forgives me?"

"Yes, there's no doubt in my mind. You're too cute to stay mad at anyway, sweet cheeks."

He felt a reluctant smile turn up the corners on his mouth. "Will it ever get better, Garcia."

"Only if you let it," she said.

He heaved in a big breath. "Thanks for running that background check for me."

"You're welcome, Spencer."

"Hey, Garcia?"

"What?"

"Merry Christmas."

"Same to you, sweet cheeks."

**_THE END_**

**_A/n thank you all for your support of this little story and thanks for my wonderful beta REIDFANATIC who catches all my mistakes. Thank you my friend for all your suggestions that made this story great. Stay tuned for a sequel in the works. _**


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